


Closing Time

by peter_parkr



Series: you're alright, kid. [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Nightmares, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 09:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peter_parkr/pseuds/peter_parkr
Summary: But home meant sleep. And sleep was impossible.Muggers? Fine. Burglars? Bring it on. The Vulture? No problem.But sleeping? There was no power strong enough to make that easy for Peter.---Or: Peter can't sleep after Homecoming and obviously deals with it super unhealthily. He finally opens up to Tony after it gets out of hand.





	Closing Time

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT #3: Insomnia  
> Warnings: swearing
> 
> the amazing @Moony_Writes drew some fantastic fanart for this fic! check it out at the bottom of the page :-)

"Yo, Karen. Shuffle my Spotify? Please?"

"Sure thing, Peter. Which playlist would you like?" 

"Play me...  _Spidey-Tunes._ " 

Peter sighed contentedly as the first melodic notes of a familiar  _Squeeze_  song hit his ears. He was lying flat on top of a speeding train, feeling the wind rushing past him, thrumming his laced fingers gently across his stomach to the beat. He looked up at the night sky passing by, brightly lit by the city he protected. It had been a quiet but successful patrol night - a couple muggers and a small car accident - and the boy had every reason to head home for the night.

But home meant sleep. And sleep was  _impossible_.

Muggers? Fine. Burglars? Bring it on. The Vulture? No problem. 

But  _sleeping_? There was no power strong enough to make that easy for Peter.

So instead, he stayed awake. One thing that Peter had always appreciated about himself was his ability to stay distracted. He credited it to many long nights in the ER waiting for May's shift to end, or at home counting the minutes until Uncle Ben walked through the front door from work. Peter winced at the unexpected thought of his uncle. He momentarily saw puddles of blood in front of his eyes, tasted a scream in his mouth, heard Ben's last desperate cry for help. He shook his head vigorously to dispel the thoughts.

Most nights Peter distracted himself with patrol. It felt good to be able to help people, especially after all the shit he messed up this year. Other nights it was homework, or video games, or practicing for decathlon, or enhancing his suit, or inventing something new. Sometimes he just snuck out for a long walk around the neighbourhood like a normal civilian.

A few times a week Peter would get one, maybe two hours of sleep at the end of the night before getting up for school. He discovered that his powers meant he could function on way less sleep than normal, however he would still occasionally doze off on the subway, or worse - in class. Ned was getting really worried about him, but Peter laughed off his friend's concern with jokes about being up late cleaning up after New York. Mr. Harrington had taken him aside after class twice this month, but Peter assured the man that he was just recovering from a flu and would be back on his feet in no time.

What Peter didn't tell either concerned party was that every time he closed his eyes he felt the weight of a concrete building collapsing on top of him. He saw the vulture's beady green eyes glowering down at him, a foot from his face and boiling with rage. He was clinging to the outside of a  _Stark Industries_  plane and it was crashing, hurtling towards the ground. The Coney Island ferry was ripping him in two and people were screaming and it was  _his fault_. He was on a rooftop and Mr. Stark was looking at him with nothing but disappointment and disgust in his face. He was gasping, drowning at the bottom of the Hudson, and no one was coming to save him this time. He was staring into Uncle Ben's pleading eyes as he took his last breath. When he closed his eyes, his own hands were soaked in blood and the pit in his stomach told him that nothing would ever be the same.

So he didn't close them.

Peter felt a little bad about hiding this little habit from May, but he knew it would only worry her. Besides, there was nothing she could do to help him.  _No one_  could help - not Ned, not MJ, not Mr. Harrington, not even Mr. Stark. Because the issue was inside Peter's head. Peter  _was_  the problem.

"Peter, sorry to interrupt, but it's 4 AM. You need to be up for school in less than 3 hours. Shall we get you home?"

Peter hummed. "Alright, Karen. One more song then I'll head home. You pick."

"Playing  _Closing Time_ by Semisonic." 

Peter chuckled. Sometimes he thought that Mr. Stark had somehow given Karen his own shitty sense of humour.

 

\---

 

4 days and 3 total hours of sleep went by.

Peter's right eye was starting to twitch at random. He couldn't control it.

He was becoming irritable towards his friends, his teachers, Aunt May, himself. He couldn't control it.

He didn't have the energy to text Mr. Stark back or keep Happy in the loop. He couldn't control it.

He was making mistakes at school and at decathlon and on patrol. He couldn't control it. 

_He couldn't control it._

 

\---

 

It was really only a matter of time until he fucked up. 

Peter and Ned were huddled over Ned's phone in the most isolated school washroom, sharing a set of earbuds. They were both running late for second period but they needed to check out the news everyone at school seemed to be laughing about.

On the screen, a local news anchor began the segment. "Spider-Man or Siesta-Man? Check out the hilarious footage of New York's favourite vigilante falling asleep on the job." The headline was accompanied by a blurry but unmistakeable cell phone video of Peter, fully clad in his suit, hanging upside-down from a bus shelter on 45th street and snoring dramatically. About 10 seconds into the video, the camera operator yells "BOO!". Peter yelps and crashes to the ground, gracelessly landing on his head in a heap. He groans and rolls over dramatically, stumbling to his feet. "Hey! Mister Camera Guy!" Peter yells, pointing towards the screen before grabbing for the phone. The video blacks out there.

Peter face palms in embarrassment and slumps to the bathroom floor, sitting with his back to a stall door. Ned quickly shuts off the video and crouches in front of his friend, putting a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, hey. It's alright dude. It's just the news of the day. Go do something heroic tonight and you'll be everyone's hero again in no time."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Thanks Ned. I'm just so..." Peter dropped off there, vaguely waving a hand in the air as if to imply what he meant. His eyes drifted away from his friend and he rested a tired hand over his face. Ned sighed worriedly.

"Peter, what's going on?" Ned asked him for the umpteenth time that month. "This isn't like you."

Peter didn't have the energy today for his usual creatively evasive excuses. "Nothing, Ned. I'm just  _tired_."

As Ned raised a skeptical eyebrow and opened his mouth to question further, Peter's phone buzzed.

 

**Incoming FaceTime from Tony Stark**

Peter saw the notification and rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed right now was Mr. Stark chewing him out for falling asleep on the job. He  _knew_  he messed up and felt bad enough about it himself. Combined with the media embarrassment, Peter felt he had suffered enough for one morning. He let it ring.

Ned's eyes widened comically. "Peter! Pick it up!" His voice came out 2 octaves higher than usual. 

"No." Peter said defiantly. "We have class. I'll call him later."

"Peter. Seriously. We're talking about  _Tony St_ -"

Before Ned could finish his sentence, the phone beeped and the call was forced through. Ned's jaw hung open and Peter squinted in annoyance as Mr. Stark's face appeared on the screen.

"That was rude." 

"Ruder than you not picking up?"

"I'm in class, Mr. Stark."

"Really? Cause it kinda seems like you're sitting on the bathroom floor. Hi Ted."

Ned grabbed the phone from Peter's slack grasp and scrambled to his feet, holding it way too close to his face.

"Ted! That's me! Mr. Tony Stark, let me tell you, it is an  _honour -_ "

"Likewise. Hey, Ted, you're a software guy right?" Ned nodded vigorously. "You should come over with Peter sometime. I can show you a bit of my code for his suit, it's pretty groovy. Now could you pass me back to our spidey-friend and give us a minute?"

Totally speechless, Ned smiled wider than ever before and tossed the phone back at Peter, who gave him as much of a smile as he could muster from his seat on the floor. He loosely saluted with two fingers; Ned took the hint and hurried off, leaving Peter alone in the bathroom.

"His name's Ned. And that made his day. Actually, probably his whole life. You're nice, Mr. Stark."

"Hey, kid managed to hack my suit. I know smart when I see it."

Peter nodded in agreement. There was a beat of silence.

"You look like shit."

"I'm fine." Peter replied tersely. He glanced at the small image of his face on the screen. He was pale against the bathroom wall behind him. His cheeks looked like sunken-in shadows, and the dark purple bags underneath his eyes stuck out like tattoos against his skin. Maybe he didn't look so hot.

"Uh-huh. Definitely fine. When's the last time you slept?"

"Last night." Technically, he had fallen asleep for a while inside that bus shelter, so it wasn't a lie...

Tony rolled his eyes. "Let me rephrase that. When's the last time you slept somewhere  _other_  than the inside of a bus shelter in Brooklyn? Like, in your bed maybe?"

Peter grimaced in embarrassment. "So you've been watching the news?"

"Yeah. Got a Google alert on you. You're pretty lucky this didn't go more viral than it did." 

"Look, Mr. Stark, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't be falling asleep on the job. I've never done that before and it won't happen again, I swear. I know, we're connected in the media, and you made my suit, and my reputation is your reputation, and I really didn't mean to embarrass you - "

"Woahwoahwoah. Kid." Mr. Stark interrupted him abruptly, looking surprised and a little disappointed. "You think I'm calling to tell you off? Look, I don't give a shit about reputation. You should know that. I literally peed inside my suit on camera once." Peter snorted at the memory of that particular video. "Honestly, I'm just - I'm worried about you, Pete. You're out in your suit till all hours of the night, you keep forgetting to leave reports, you skipped our lab time last week, you take days to answer my texts. I thought you just needed space, you know - teenager stuff, especially after everything that happened - and I'm trying to respect that. But I think this has gone a little too far, yeah?" 

Peter nodded slowly, his lips pursed. He felt guilty and exhausted and cornered. "Sorry, Mr. Stark. I promise I'll be more -"

"No, no. You're not getting it, kid. I don't need an apology. It's just - are you  _okay_?"

It was probably the 250th time this month someone asked him that exact question. But for some reason, this time was different. Peter took one look into Mr. Stark's sharp, worried eyes and something inside him broke. The exhaustion, the memories, the fear. Peter clamped his lips shut tightly, holding back a sob as fat tears began to fill his eyes and spill down his cheeks. He closed his eyes tightly and banged his head hard against the stall behind him. He tried to take in a shaky breath through his nose. He was  _not_  about to blubber on the bathroom floor in front of Tony Stark. This was a new low.

Tony sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Look, kid, let's blow this popsicle stand. I'm in the neighbourhood. Meet me at the side door in 5, alright?"

Peter shook his head and replied in a shaky voice as a couple more tears fell. "Mr. Stark, I have class, and a Spanish quiz fifth period -"

"School is for nerds. I'll write you a note. See you in 5?"

Peter considered for a second then nodded shakily in agreement. He could probably use a day off. Mr. Stark nodded firmly and ended the call.

After resting for a moment, Peter rose shakily from the ground and went to the sink. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he looked up into the mirror and met his own eyes. He somehow looked even worse than before. His eyes were now red-rimmed and bloodshot, his cheeks blotchy in contrast to his paleness. Sighing, Peter slung his backpack over his shoulder and ducked his head to avoid being noticed by anyone. He was relieved to see that Ned was gone, probably off to class where he should be. He walked through the quiet hallways, making his way to the side door of the school. Once outside, Peter slumped down onto the steps. He rested his tired head in his hands, elbows on his knees, waiting for Mr. Stark. He zoned out staring at an ant on the concrete step, too tired to think of anything much at all except the pit of dread settled in his stomach.

_Beep-beep._

Peter was brought back to reality by a horn. He looked up to see Mr. Stark parked in front of the steps, sitting in the driver's seat of one of his more modest vehicles. Peter slowly rose to his feet and walked down to the car, slumping into the passenger seat and hugging his backpack to his chest. He stared straight ahead but could see from the corner of his eye that Tony was looking at him.

"Hey Mr. Stark." Peter said quietly.

"Hey, Pete." Tony replied. He was still looking him over analytically, a soft concern in his eyes. He spoke a little uncertainly. "Can we... do you want to talk about it?"

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head decidedly. "Later?"

Tony briefly gripped his shoulder affectionately and started the car. "Alright. Later it is."

Tony started the long drive to the compound. At first, Peter just stared out the window at the passing traffic, looking like he had the weight of 2 worlds on his shoulders. Tony discreetly put on some quiet music and turned the heat up just a little bit. He drove slower than normal and took each turn gently. It took about half an hour, but eventually his plan worked. First Peter's eyes drooped and slipped shut, then his breathing began to even out. His head dropped sideways to rest on his left shoulder with a light thump.

Tony smiled softly as he peered over at the sleeping kid. For now, sitting at Tony's right side, he looked almost peaceful - for the first time in god knows how long. Tony raised a gentle hand and used his thumb to softly wipe the lingering tear tracks from Peter's face. He ruffled the boy's messy hair and let his hand rest in the tangled curls for just a moment. 

"You're gonna be alright, kid." Tony whispered. And he believed it. He would make certain of it.

 

\---

the end 

\---

guys!! the amazing @Moony_Writes drew this fantastic fanart for this fic! check it out below :-)


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